beauty

[sSsflamesSs]

Uuhhh, what does "puk" mean?

[spookyghost]

um, whose feliz, and no one knows what i look like, nor have i shown them ever.

i read all your crap because you always respond to almost every freaking thread or post with something dumb to say, and you have no other choice but to read it because its in almost all the threads, mixed in the middle of all the other peoples posts, and you go down the list, reading them all.

what a wanker

[sleuth]

Edited by loseyourname: Chill out sleuth.

[fIReBuRntInHeLL]

Actually beauty is objective.

[loseyourname]

If beauty is objective, what empirical qualities mark an object as beautiful?

[sleuth]

Edited by loseyourname: Indeed I can edit all your posts.

[patlajan]

Yeah and leggo my eggo !

[spiral]

Originally posted by sleuth Edited by loseyourname: Indeed I can edit all your posts.

This is beauty...

[sleuth]

Originally posted by sleuth Edited by loseyourname: Indeed I can edit all your posts.

pats losers ego

[ckBejug]

What does beauty mean to you?

Define a "beautiful" person.

I think this is the best answer to your question Sprial...

Beauty can’t be completely defined or mathematically measured; we feel it first and then search for the reasons why; we first acknowledge it as such and then we attempt to intellectualize and conceptualize it so that we may try to reproduce it.

There she stands, both strong and pure, with head held high and a furrowed pensive sneer plastered across her countenance hinting at strength of resolve; a symbol of quiet dignity and power of will that strikes you like a slap in the face and reminds you of what is possible and not just an inapproachable ideal to be fantasized over or that can only be found in books and movie screens.

She is beautiful, a fact made all the more poignant by her complete innocence about it, her complete ignorance concerning her own force of presence. She feels her power, sometimes, she perceives the effects of it on the world around her but she lacks the ego and the presumptuous nature to fully appreciate it. Her pride if often misconstrued as arrogance and her nobility as snobbishness.

A beautiful woman need not use makeup or dress in flamboyant, flattering garments to become so-she simply is. The most pathetically weak individuals are often those that, when stripped of their labels, acquisitions and status, have nothing else left to be proud of. The weaker the individual, the uglier the person, the simpler the mind, the more it looks for substitutions for inner power and beauty.

But she needs none of this, others just gravitate to her. They sense her authenticity of spirit; they want to partake in it, rub against it, gain a bit of it through association or they fear it, loath it, despise its existence until they want to tear it down and defame it in public view. They feel threatened by it because it forces comparisons and its purity of force and ease of expression exasperates them.

He walks into a room and makes no first impressions of note. He resembles the common man to the extent that he can blend into the throng and get lost in the multitude. But spend enough time in his presence and he unfolds the wonderment of his being to you. Slowly but surely you begin deferring to him, you seek his approval, his agreement, his friendship, his love.

It happens unconsciously and while you are offering opinions on a multiplicity of subject matter and trying to resist him, your eyes drift his way, they seek out his, looking for reaction, looking for consent, looking for communion. He doesn’t always speak honestly, often being bored by the simplicity of the world or the opinions trying to encompass it, but when he does he sets a standard to be reached and reveals a perspective that can be ignored and/or opposed but not completely denied.

He is beautiful in the one way that matters, for a beautiful spirit can result in symmetry of form but symmetry of form doesn’t always hint at spirit. He is threatening, even though he may be oblivious to it most of the time. He sucks energy out of a room until there’s little left-over to be shared; he draws attention unexpectedly, when at first he is ignored, and even those that despise him for it, unwillingly measure themselves against him and unconsciously try to flatter themselves by tearing him down. The shadows are his preference, from here he can be himself, but the spotlight is often his unavoidable and uncomfortable destiny.

It has been said that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder and that it is an evolutionary process by which the mind, through psychology and genetic predisposition, recognizes what is worthy of its attentions and how one distinguishes the healthy from the ill. In a universe with so little of it, every instance draws us to it and imposes itself into our reality. We look for it, we covet and envy it and we aspire to and are inspired by it.

Perhaps beauty can be defined as an expression of order and harmony in a universe of chaos and disharmony that comes across as eloquence, symmetry and graciousness that leaves us breathless.

We all want to know that when we lie on our deathbed and we prepare to be taken back to the oblivion that birthed us, we might have, for at least once in our lives, perceived a particle of it so that we can hold onto its memory, as we drift away; a memory to savour in the void, a singular instance of definitiveness in a universe of uncertainty and then, perhaps, our lives would not have been all in vain.